


drink down my days

by zerotransfat



Series: and when my time is up [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: ...kind of, Blood, Body Horror, Creepy Soul Eating Shenanigans, Gabe Hecked Up, Gabe you asshat...ya shoulda confessed, Gabe your catholic schoolboy is showing, Jack is Tired, M/M, Protect Angela Ziegler 2k16, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Super Soldier Program: Shady Shit, gratuitous hamilton song references, look for the bonus mchanzo content, this thing grew into a monster and im not sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-26
Updated: 2016-07-26
Packaged: 2018-07-26 14:00:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7576630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zerotransfat/pseuds/zerotransfat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is a hunger that Reaper can't satisfy anymore, except by eating that most preached quality, the soul. </p><p>Jack wants to stay with Gabriel, for just a while longer. You can't do that if you're dead.</p><p>So he says, <em>take me with you.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	drink down my days

**Author's Note:**

> Let's play a game: how badly can I screw up two old sad dads?
> 
> Bonus points if you spot the Mchanzo.

“ _…and prepare a savoury dish for me such as I love, and bring it to me that I may eat, so that my soul may bless you before I die._ Genesis, 27:4.” Father Miguel droned on as the Sunday morning sun streamed in through the stained glass windows.

Gabriel could get behind eating something good before dying—it seemed like a good plan. In this shit part of town, you ate whenever you could, since death could be around the corner for a whole host of reasons.  He yawned, and his abuela gave him an admonishing look. He wanted to grumble about it, but Gabriel could wait until after the sermon was over.

Afterwards, Abuela whapped him lightly upside his head and then huffed fondly about growing boys and their stomachs when he grinned and asked for a snack.

 

* * *

 

Years later, when he was no longer growing or eating food anymore, Gabriel remembered the sermon and felt the urge to snort. Here he was— never going to die. He’ll never eat again except for the most cherished of qualities, the soul; how he has changed.

He prowled the desert sands, seeking his prey. The sound of pulse fire had died down a while ago, leaving only the burning sun and the wind over the ancient temple. Death has arrived, and he grinned with shapeless lips as he took the soul of a dead body lying abandoned. Waste not, want not, so the old saying went.

Pulling away, his clawed hand crushed the burning orb, letting the smoky essence inside free. With great relish, he used his unnaturally sharp teeth to tear the fleshy surface, savouring the anger, fear and pain before consuming it all with a greedy swallow. Satisfied, he watched the body dissolve into a pile of black dust. Working his way inwards, there were signs of a struggle: dead grunts on every side, there—that must have been the leader, his bloated body in the sun. He ate their fading souls, one and all.

After he was done, Gabriel casted around, looking for anyone he missed. There, that trail of blood; judging by the amount the wounds must have been fatal. Lips sneering, he followed the path.

Jack waited for him beneath the shadow of a broken pillar.

“Hey. Took you a while.” The other man’s scarred and tired face smiled at him, his visor and mask along with his pulse rifle discarded to the side. There was blood all over the faux leather, covering the tacky red-white and blue colour scheme with deep crimson.

“ _Jack._ The fuck happened?” Gabriel rasped as he ran the last few steps to his side, taking off his black cloak and wadding it up, trying to find the largest wound before pressing it into Jack. He coughed and whimpered at the pain.

“They…got me good.” Grabbing onto his arm, Jack pulled himself up to a straighter position. “The whole thing was a setup, Gabe. I can’t move, so I’m well and truly screwed.” He grimaced and coughed up blood. _Shit, internal bleeding, must have nicked a lung._

“Stop talking, Morrison. You’re in no shape to be talking right now. Shut up and just hold on.” Gabriel snapped at Jack, feeling the words catch in his throat.

Jack’s answering grin had blood seeping through his teeth, making it much less comforting than he probably intended. “What is there to hold on for? I’m just an old soldier now, waiting to die anyway. Might as well go out fighting. Did you know that I dug up an old, _old_ report from the old SEP? It was classified beyond all belief. It took Winston three days just to crack it.”

Morbid curiosity got the better of him. “What was in it?”

“Life expectancies of all the subjects involved in the SEP. You have to remember Gabe, we were all guinea pigs for this wonder drug. Ever wonder why they never made more of us, aimed for biotech enhancement instead?” Jack’s gloved hand scrabbled weakly for a second before grabbing hold onto one of the straps on his armour. “We were all expected to die within a twenty year period anyway. Why sink money, time, and effort for a few super soldiers that were all gonna die within three decades max?”

“You and I, we’re the only two who managed to make it past the twenty year mark. We both should have died around the time of the Swiss HQ, Gabe. Angela did what she could with you since I forced her to come back for you, you’re not gonna die. Me…I only had borrowed time on the clock. So I went underground, hunting for T-Talon on my own.”

Jack’s breathing sped up, as if trying to get enough air. He could do nothing but hold onto him. The reedy, desperately thumping Gabe could feel through Jack’s pale, clammy skin scared him more than anything else he had ever faced in his life.

A silence. Gabriel was processing the words, feeling the words _“come back for you”_ echoing in the hollow spaces in his chest, the disbelief filling the gaping hole as Jack’s breathing got harsher and he got paler. He could almost feel Jack’s soul slipping free.

“…G-gabe…you can…you can eat souls, right? Do you? See everything?” The other held on to him and god, his grip was loosening. Gabe scrambled with his free hand to grab hold of Jack’s, intertwining their fingers together.

“…Yes. I try not to.” He muttered, as the other nodded and looked…satisfied, somehow.

“Take it. T-take it, Gabe. Let me go with you. Let me stay. Please…I-I can’t say it. Please…”

“What am I, a priest?” He said with a lingering scrap of bitterness. “Don’t talk like that. You’re Jack Morrison, damn you, you’re not gonna die here. Not like this. Not goddamn like this!”

Jack wouldn’t stop fucking _smiling._ “Jack Morrison died years ago, Gabe. Whatever’s left of him wants to go with you. Take him…take me with you.” He squeezed Gabe’s fingers with all the feeble strength he had. “Promise me. We had so many things we didn’t get to say…promise me.”

“Jack, I can’t, I don’t know what—”

“Promise me…please…”

“I—”

“Promise…me…”

Gabriel grit his teeth and closed his eyes, unable to watch. “I—I promise. I promise!”

He felt Jack relax, heard a whispered, “Thank you…” before Jack went limp.

 

When Gabriel opened his eyes again, Jack was still smiling. Above him in the air was a single, glowing soul.

 

He clutched at it— _it looks no different than all the others_ , Gabriel thought with an edge of hysteria—with trembling hands, taking care not to damage it. Pressing his lips to the smoky surface, Gabriel breathed in glimpses of what Jack had felt just a moment before, committing to memory the _pain regret love._ It flooded his mouth, bittersweet against his tongue as his sharp teeth bit into Jack’s soul.

He couldn’t stop. He wanted to stop; wherever the souls went after he ripped them apart couldn't be good, couldn't be anywhere Jack deserved to be, but he couldn't stop. His teeth tore into Jack again and again, his entire body shaking as he saw:

 

_Christmas with his family as a kid, Jack’s father lifting him up so he could put the star on—_

 

_On the train to boot camp (he’s always hated trains)_

 

_Training and nights and days filled with needles, and one asshole who somehow makes it tolerable (his heart skips a beat like some teenage girl, who is he his sister)_

 

_—“sister,” Ana says, “Only a sister with the patience of a saint can deal with you two!”_

 

_Two times he opens his big stupid mouth and screws up royally before he manages to get the confession—_

 

_“Confession time,” Gabe says, an easy smile on his face, “I don't know how I fell for you, the whitest boy I’ve ever seen— ”_

 

_“Seen Amélie? I’m starting to get worried—”_

 

_“Worried about nothing but your precious position, your perfect Overwatch! It’s over, Morrison, I’m through with—”_

 

_He’s through with running, he thinks as his wounds ache and the blast still echoes and he’s screaming “God—I have to go back, go back! He’s still in there! Let me go, Angela!”_

 

_Stopping himself from screaming, saying “Hey. I’m sorry it took so long to visit, Gabe. It’s been tough trying to drag myself here.” His hands tighten around the stems of the flowers, crushing them slightly, “You were the dumbass who knew all the fancy flower meanings so I just got you these (forget-me-nots)_

 

_Forget me not, though that’s a tall order, is his last thought as he stares at the bone-white mask—_

 

He felt sick. Gabe clutched at his mouth, his stomach roiling from the sick heat and the taste of _love_ caught in his throat like bile. He gagged but nothing came out.

Know this about hellfire: it was not like the biblical descriptions. There was no sulphur and brimstone, no devils with pitchforks, no screams of the damned except for those coming out of his own mouth. It did burn like nothing else so at least Father Miguel got that right. The worst part was of it was that the heat was already leaving him, fading and leaving him cold, _ravenous_ again. Jack’s body shook as Gabe curled tighter around him, holding on like a lifeline. _If you hold him hard enough then nothing can take him away from you._

When the new Overwatch came to investigate, all they found were pools of blood and piles of black dust that blew away in the wind with nothing to hold it.

 

* * *

 

_“Hey.”_

 

_The soft taps of simple shoes against tile, the sound of someone sliding into the vinyl seat behind him. Gabe didn't dare turn around, only staring resolutely out the window at the blankness as the other man orders (pike place: the most boring ass shit, he never changes)._

 

_They both stare out the windows —there’s nothing to see but blinding whiteness. In this cramped imaginary cafe they wait in silence. They slowly drink their coffee. Gabe savours the taste; he has forgotten what it tasted like a lifetime ago. He savours also the sensation of warmth at his back, like the nights on the top of Watchpoint Gibraltar. For a single, shining instant, they’re going to stay like this._

 

_The soft rustle of the other man getting up breaks the illusion. Gabe stiffens in his seat._

 

_“Hey,” the other says again. “Forget me not, though that’s a tall order.”_

 

_Gabriel turns violently, the coffee cup shattering against the floor, and Jack is smiling like nothing happened. His eyes are forget-me-not blue—_

 

* * *

 

 

Gabriel woke gasping, body frozen on the thin sheets of the cot.

He never wanted to drink coffee ever again.

He used to miss dreaming like a normal person too. Now Gabe saw that it was a blessing in disguise, one he had never properly appreciated.

Tomorrow he will leave this dingy safe house behind and look for answers at Overwatch. Tomorrow he will put on the black hood and leave his shotguns in his internal armoury and walk straight into Angela’s hands. That’s all for tomorrow.

For tonight, he huddled deeper into the blankets, he’ll try to get some sleep.

_Though that’s a tall order._

 

* * *

 

 _“Intruder!”_ Athena screeched as the alarms blared and the red emergency lights flashed. _“Intruder identified: Designation Reaper.”_

He only stood in the hangar, refusing to draw his weapons. Around him, drones popped out of the woodwork and the whole of the new Overwatch crowded around him in full force, weapons out and ready. As the last of them gathered, he reached for his face as all of them tensed and prepared to fight.

Gabriel grabbed the mask and pulled.

When he was done, they all stared at him, bewildered and distraught.

“I…I want to help.” He rasped, his face bleeding from where the bolts went into his flesh and down into bone. “I want to…”

“Oh, _Gabe,_ ” Lena said, her voice pained. “You—you were Reaper all this time?”

Beside her, Angela looked up, eyes guilty. “I…I knew. I was the one who pulled him out of Zurich.”

Winston, that kind soul, stared into Angela’s eyes and then at him. “That doesn’t matter at the moment. Let’s get your wounds treated first, get you secured, then we’ll talk, alright?”

Winston was a much better leader than he could ever be.

 

* * *

 

Angela swept across the room, agitation in her every movement. She gathered up gauze and surgical needles and her own courage.

After standing there for five minutes, she whispered, “Jack’s dead, isn’t he?”

He owed her honest answers, the only one left to give those to, now. Gabriel nodded.

The taste of _love_ got caught in his throat again.

“Gabriel,” Angela breathed out, her eyes swimming with tears. “Oh, _Gabriel._ He never stopped.”

He considered getting angry at her, considered shouting that he knew better than _anyone_ how Jack Morrison never stopped chasing after Gabriel Reyes, even considered just getting up and walking out, out of this base, find somewhere devoid of anyone and never come back.

Instead, he only sighed, the sound weighing down his chest. “I know. Forget-me-not and all that.”

“We did wonder who had sent the flowers to his grave, back then. You never stopped either, did you?”

He couldn’t answer. He couldn’t say anything. Love was choking him until he couldn't breathe.

Angela couldn't stop crying throughout the entire medical examination.

 

* * *

 

_Back here again, with the coffee and the blankness and the familiar warmth at his back. The same sequence of events._

 

_“Goddamnit. I want this to stop.” Gabe manages to get out between numb lips._

 

_“This is your dream, Gabriel. There’s no reason why you can’t change it—although you never did have the best self control.”_

 

_“Fuck you, Morrison. None of this is real. You’re not real, this coffee isn't real, and this stupid cafe isn’t real either. This is all in my goddamn head, and nothing else. It’s not real.”_

 

_“Of course it is happening inside your head, Gabe, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?”_

 

_“Did you just?… Dios mío, Harry Potter?”_

 

_“Hey, don't knock Rowling, it’s still a classic.”_

 

_“Classic or no, you’re a nerd, Morrison.”_

 

_“You’re an ass. But I love and forgive you, King Asshole.”_

 

_“Forgiveness? Can you imagine?” Gabe laughed bitterly as Jack grinned at him, sadness in the lines of his eerily blue eyes. “Forgiveness?”_

 

_“Everyone deserves forgiveness, Gabe. Everyone. Even you. Especially you.”_

 

_“Fucking unbelievable.”_

 

_“Unimaginable, but not impossible.”_

 

_“You’re impossible. You’re the one who used to say salt was a spice.”_

 

_“It adds flavour to food. I love you as I love salt and all that.”_

 

_“I never knew you knew the fairy tale.”_

 

_“I don’t. Doesn't mean you don’t. This is, after all, your dream.”_

 

 _He slams his fists into the table. “I want to stop dreaming! This isn’t real! There is no goddamn_ point _to this! You told me all you wanted, didn’t you? What else have we left undone?”_

 

_“There’s a million things we haven’t done. I want to do them all with you, so I’ll just condense them into one: I wanna tell you I—”_

 

_“No! Stop!”_

 

_“Truth is, you don't want to stop dreaming.”_

 

* * *

 

“I still don’t trust you,” the archer said. The Shimada kept touching his bow like he was ready to use it at a moment’s notice, despite being indoors, in the kitchen.

He grunted, but deep down he was glad. Gabriel may have been cleared for active duty with this new Overwatch, but it was not a happy occasion. Even now Lena was only just starting to relearn how to smile at him again, Reinhardt’s laughter less forced. Even now, Angela still refused to meet his eyes.

He was glad then for the newer members. They, quite simply, did not trust him a single shred. It was a comforting, familiar constant.

(If Jack knew how much Gabe wanted to be distrusted the other man would scold him. Not like he’s here anymore, stupid dreams be damned.)

“I don’t expect you to trust me at all. That’s…good.” He fiddled with the edge of his black hoodie.

Shimada paused, silently contemplating as he stared at him. Just before Gabriel lost all patience and snapped at him, the archer spoke.

“I heard some things about your history from McCree. I know what you did.”

Gabriel snorted. “Yes, I killed everything I ever loved and destroyed all we had worked for. Anything else?” He just about snarled, hands clenching around the dark fabric. “If you’re gonna kill me then just do it, cabrón.”

“No. That is not what I wished to say. Only…I felt this as well, once before. You remind me of myself back then, fresh out of defecting from my clan and almost killing my brother.” Shimada took an arrow out of his quiver, examining the fletching in the bright light of morning. “What is it that you say in English? _Misery loves company._ While I do not trust you,” a twirl of the arrow before it is returned to the quiver, “I do not wish to see the others suffer from your pain. Despite what you have done, I care for the others. So, if you are in the mood, seek me out.”

Shimada left him in the kitchen, still staring out at the white light at the window.

Gabriel looked out at the light and prayed. That never used to happen before.

 

* * *

 

 

_“Hey.”_

 

_For once, Jack is here before he is. The customary coffee still waits for him, perfectly hot._

 

_They sit in perfect silence, looking out together at the window._

 

_For once, Gabe gets up first. He leaves his table, his empty coffee mug on the cracked plastic._

 

_“Hey.” Gabe finally answers. He stands straight, facing Jack of his own free will. He takes in the blond hair, the straight nose, the blue, blue eyes._

 

_Oh. He’s smiling._

 

_“Ready to hear my wish now?” Jack takes his hand and it’s warm in his. For once, Gabe smiles. That never used to happen before._

 

_“I think so.”_

 

_“Here goes: I love you.”_

 

_“Oh, that’s all?” He teases. “I dream about you for years and it took that long for you to say that?”_

 

_Jack grins. “Shut up and kiss me.”_

 

_Gabe whispers, “Te amo,” before their lips met._

 

_After they break apart, they watch the whiteness out the window together for one more moment. For a single, shining instant, they’re going to stay like this._

 

_“I have to go. You’re waking up.”_

 

_“Will I see you again?”_

 

_“It’s only a matter of time. Take your time.”_

 

_Jack walks towards the wooden door of the cafe. With a smile, he’s gone._

 

_It will be years before they’ll meet again. He still has years yet, years of light and laughter and the taste of love, like coffee, lingering around the corners of his mouth._

 

_Gabe can wait._

 

_In the meantime, he could go for a bite to eat. A cupcake sounds good — years of black coffee tends to get monotonous._

**Author's Note:**

> Betaed by the amazing Jessica, found in these hidy-holes on the internet : [here](http://jickechoes.tumblr.com/) and [here](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jick)
> 
> Extra special thanks to @Belinda and @ProwlingThunder on the Mchanzo Discord full of sin and along with everyone who encouraged me to post this _highly_ experimental style; I love you all.
> 
> HOLY MOLY THIS FANDOM. I haven't written a full nine pages for anything, ever. In like, a week.
> 
> I am [here](copperpatina.tumblr.com) on tumblr, come scream about An Archer and His Cowboy along with Super Edgy Sad Dads there.


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